The Sixth Day
by fenrirs
Summary: Gabriel remembered the swoop of his stomach and the sensation of falling, his hardly-formed wings fluttering uselessly against the wind. But mostly, he remembered Lucifer catching him. Back then, Lucifer always caught him.
1. Prologue (Flying Lessons)

_So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them. ... And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day.  
__—_**Genesis 1:27, 31**

**01. Prologue  
****(Flying Lessons)**

In the beginning, Gabriel didn't really remember very much. He was the youngest of the angels, and Heaven seemed like such a very big place. Outside there was a whole other world, but there was very little there. He didn't know if there was anything outside except for the darkness, and that was what he remembered, mostly. In the way that early memories are disjoined and don't seem to have any coherence, his churned like the darkness beneath his and his brothers' feet.

(He later learned that at some point there had been monsters out there. Leviathan, Raphael said. He never saw them, and he never even heard about them until they were locked up.)

The first thing he could remember properly was the First Day. That was what they called it amongst themselves – that was when their father sent Lucifer to light the darkness. _Let there be light_, he said, and there was, and it was good.

Lucifer had been so pleased afterwards. "I think Dad really likes it," he said, and he took Gabriel to the edge of Heaven and they looked down at the world.

"I want to go down there," Gabriel remembered saying. It had been so bright, and so different from the murkiness before.

"Not yet," Lucifer had said. "It's not _ready_ yet."

"One day?"

"One day," said Lucifer.

He hadn't stopped wanting to visit. The world came together slowly; the days it took to create lasted millennia, and by the time Gabriel's wings had started to sprout in little stumps from his shoulders, it still was not ready.

"Teach me how to fly, Luci?"

"What, on those little things?" He tugged Gabriel's stumps, plucking out a little fluffy golden down. Gabriel wrinkled his nose.

"Hey!" He made a grab for his older brother's wings, grasping at a fistful of shining feathers. He yanked and one came out. The feather shone so brightly that it hurt his eyes to look, just like the morning when the world had been lit. It was magnificent. "How come your wings are so great? I'm never gonna learn if you don't let me."

"Dad won't be happy..."

"I don't _care_, Luci." Lucifer cocked his head. "I mean, I get bored here. There's no-one to play with. Even Raphael can fly."

"Raphael can _flutter_."

"What's the difference?"

"Raphael can't really—Look, it doesn't matter. What if you fall, huh?"

"I won't fall," said Gabriel with confidence.

"Oh, really? What makes you so sure?"

Gabriel shrugged. "You'll be there to catch me, right?"

"You put a lot of faith in me," Lucifer laughed.

"What do you mean?" said Gabriel. He frowned. "You'll be there, right? You'll teach me, and if I can't do it, and I fall, you can catch me, and we can try again later. Right?"

"All right, all right." Lucifer heaved a mock sigh, wings unfurling. "I'll teach you how to fly, little one. I know a thing or two about not falling. But don't expect you'll be soaring right away. And if you dare go down there... Well, you can't go down there, Gabriel. Dad won't be pleased. It's not ready yet."

"I won't," said Gabriel. "And I _know_. Come _on_." He tugged on his brother's arm, pulling in the direction of the edge of Heaven. He barely came up to Lucifer's belly, and his brother laughed down at him as he was led away.

"Anything else I should teach you, while we're at it?"

"You can teach me how to mess with Michael."

"You don't want to mess with Michael."

"I do so. He's boring, Luci. He never wants to play."

"That's because he's older."

"You're not like that."

"That's because I'm not as old as Michael."

"So when you are as old as Michael, you're not gonna want to play with me any more?" The little angel's face fell. They had reached the edge of Heaven.

"Well..." Lucifer scooped his brother into his arms. "Perhaps for you, little brother, I could make an exception." He tossed him over the edge.

Gabriel remembered the swoop of his stomach and the sensation of falling, his hardly-formed wings fluttering uselessly against the wind. But mostly, he remembered Lucifer catching him. Back then, Lucifer always caught him.

* * *

_The angels' human characteristics in this story are representative and not meant to be taken literally._


	2. Shining

**02. Shining**

Their father loved Lucifer best. Everyone loved Lucifer best (even Michael, Gabriel suspected, though he'd never admit it). It wasn't hard to. Lucifer shone brighter than any of them. He shone so bright that their father put the planets in the sky for him – the ones that twinkled before the dawn.

Gabriel didn't mind. Being the youngest, it seemed only right that Lucifer was the most beloved of all their father's children. He had proven himself time and time again, after all, and it was no small wonder. One day, Gabriel hoped, he would be as glorious as his brother, and one day, maybe, his father would see that. But until then, he could only learn from Lucifer, and he could only dream and sometimes pray that when his wings grew, they would be as mighty as Lucifer's, and when his time to leave Heaven came, it would be for something as honourable as bringing the light.

"It is a very important job," Lucifer told him, when he asked if their father would allow him to do something similar in the near future. "He asked me because he knows I'm capable of it. What are you capable of, Gabriel? Can you carry anything into the world on those little stubs of yours?"

"Hey, they've almost grown in properly," said Gabriel, giving his wings a flap – and managing, somewhat to his own surprise, to lift himself half a foot above the ground beneath them. "See? I'm getting better at it, you know I am."

Lucifer chuckled. "Perhaps one day, then. Until then, you should let Michael and I—"

"But I want to go!" Gabriel protested. "Have you seen it down there? Have you seen it? Look!" He grabbed Lucifer's arm and pointed to the world below. Already it was beginning to take shape, and the seas were filled with life and the lands were filled with greenery and animals that roamed.

"I've seen it," said Lucifer. "It is very beautiful. But I don't understand why you want to leave Heaven so badly. Don't you want to be closer to Dad?"

Gabriel frowned. "I guess so. But I want to see what's out there. You said it's Dad's best creation. I want to see what all the fuss is about."

"When you can fly properly—"

"Lucifer!" He screwed up his face and sat down abruptly, legs crossed and arms folded tightly against his chest. "I hate being the youngest."

Lucifer looked down at him with his lips pressed together, seemingly trying to suppress his laughter. "Impatient, are we? Patience is a virtue, little brother, remember that. You have the privilege of being one of the most beloved sons of God, and you must be careful not to lose it. And besides – it's much more fun up here. Come on. I'll show you." He reached out a hand and Gabriel took it.

It was not until much later that Gabriel learned that his older brother, who seemed so mighty and so learned, was not all that he believed him to be. He didn't know then that what he was to Lucifer, Lucifer had once been to Michael, and Michael (who was fierce – a warrior, and perhaps the most powerful of all the angels) had once been to their father. Perhaps even their father had been a child once, though even after all Gabriel lived, he could not imagine that. But when he was young, he did not see the child in Lucifer, and nor did he see in him any less than goodness.

Their home, as the human mind would understand it, was a large dwelling with many rooms, and it was there that the angels slept when they had no jobs to do. As time went on and their father created more angels, Michael, Lucifer and even Raphael were kept busy looking after the littlest ones and teaching them about the ways of Heaven and of Earth, which was what they called the world below them. Their father had retired to elsewhere in Heaven, and he told the four of them, when they visited him, that he wanted them to learn to care for the younger ones as a test of character, and to see how much they were capable of loving his creation.

"Anything you have created, Father, I will love and strive to protect," Raphael told him.

"It is my responsibility to love and to care for any brother of mine. You need not have concern, Father," assured Michael.

"Father, I love them because you have created them," said Lucifer.

Gabriel promised to love them too, but he didn't get to see them much because they were always being looked after by one or another of his brothers.

"They don't _do_ anything," he said to Michael once, after watching him care for them and attempt to teach them about everything divine. "Look, they haven't even got wings. I have wings, Michael. Look. Why don't you all try and teach _me_ something?"

"You already know most of what we have to teach you," said Michael, smiling patiently. "Please settle down; your flapping is disturbing them." Gabriel folded his wings grudgingly. "Well, at any rate, you know all I can teach you. Why not ask Raphael or Lucifer for lessons, if you are so keen to learn? I'm sure they would not object. I commend your devotion."

Gabriel snorted. "Raphael isn't even that much older than me."

"Then your time will come," said Michael. "But I have to ask you to leave now. Zachariah needs to rest."

Gabriel made a face at the little Zachariah as he turned to go.

Mostly, he wandered around Heaven, and he waited for any of his brothers to be free of their duties. Raphael, sometimes, would try and teach him how to fly.

"It wasn't long ago that I mastered it myself," he said to him. "And I could definitely show you."

But Raphael's lessons were basic and dull – they involved jumping from a height, with Heaven's floor below, and a series of convoluted wing flaps that got Gabriel's head in a spin.

"I don't think this is working," said he said when, for the fifteenth time, he'd landed head-first with his wing bent out at an odd angle. "I don't think I'm jumping from high enough."

Raphael was laughing at him. "Your wings are tiny, but they're too large for the rest of you. I can only hope you'll grow into them."

Gabriel grumbled, sitting up straight. He hoped he would, too. He hated being stuck up there – he _was_ an angel, after all, wasn't he? And he could only hope that God would reward him for trying one day.

When he rested, sometimes he remembered things from long ago. Sometimes his dreams were dark, like the world had been before, and sometimes there were things in them, writhing and thrashing. He did not understand. If his father was perfect – and there was no doubt that he was, of course – then why had he created such things? Raphael said they were called the Leviathan, and in Gabriel's dreams they took on many and various forms, because he had never seen what they looked like. Sometimes they were just a huge, black shape, and other times they were millions upon millions of creatures entwined so closely that they looked like one. He wondered if maybe God had created them as a test of endurance, and he wondered if he had failed and that was why he was not yet allowed to leave Heaven.

It wasn't uncommon for him to think like this, and one of the nights (for Heaven mirrored the days and the nights into which his father had split the Earth) he wandered from his room seeking reassurance. He was sleepy, and his eyes felt hot and they stung, but he daren't go back into his room, for it was dark, and that was where the monsters hid.

Michael and Lucifer were together in the room at the front of the house, and they seemed to be involved in some sort of heated discussion.

"You can't do that," said Michael. He was talking under his breath, presumably so as not to disturb Raphael or Gabriel, whom he thought to be asleep in the nearby rooms. "It's—That's preposterous, is what it is. Dad will never allow it."

"Oh, I think he will," said Lucifer, who was talking equally quietly, and his voice came out breathy and strained. "I think he will and I think he will love them."

"I. Created. Them. First," said Michael.

"And mine are better," said Lucifer.

"What's better?" said Gabriel, who had been listening from the doorway.

"Gabriel!" Michael looked up in surprise, and Lucifer turned to him. "How long have you been there?"

"Since just now. What's better, Luci?" he asked, trying to take his mind off the monsters in the darkness. The brightness of Lucifer's shining wings helped.

Lucifer smirked, and he looked to Michael. "Michael and I were discussing the living creatures on God's green earth. He's invented himself a little animal. Calls it a—What was it, you called it, Michael?"

"A lizard," said Michael, sullenly.

"Lizard, right." Lucifer waved a hand. "One of the creeping things that creepeth... I think it would work much better without the legs. What do you think, Gabriel?"

Gabriel was so stunned at being asked for his opinion that he didn't know which of them to agree with. Instead, he started to say the first thing that came to his head: "How big are they? Because they should be big." Perhaps something of his dream was still remaining after all. "Yeah, they should be big, and they should have wings like us. And they should breathe fire."

"Fire?" said Michael. "Don't be stupid."

"Sorry," said Gabriel. He looked to his feet. "I just, thought, maybe... I mean... Nothing else can do that."

"It would destroy everything we've worked so hard to create," said Michael.

"I know," said Gabriel. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," said Lucifer. "You have to try before you get it right. None one of us is perfect – besides Dad, of course. Gabriel," he said softly, "don't be upset. What's the matter?"

"What is wrong, Gabriel?" said Michael, suddenly alert. "What are you doing here, anyway? You ought to be resting."

"I had—I thought—I—Never mind. I heard you two talking. I'm going back to bed." Somehow, after Michael tossing his suggestion aside like that, it would have seemed like another admission of weakness to admit that he had bad dreams, so he was about to turn to go... But the hallway was so dark that he turned back around again. "Lucifer," he said, "will you walk me back to my room?"

"Of course," said Lucifer, after exchanging a brief glance with Michael. "Of course I will, little brother."

Gabriel led the way, and Lucifer followed behind, and it didn't seem so dark with him there. It was no wonder, Gabriel thought, that their dad seemed to love him the best of them all, and that he put the stars in the sky for him. He got back into the bed, but the shadows were still there. The moment Lucifer left, he knew, they would turn into monsters again.

"Luci..."

"Yes, Gabriel?"

"I had a bad—Never mind."

"Oh, OK." Gabriel nestled further into the blanket around him and squeezed his eyes tight shut. Maybe if he shut them while his brother was still with him, he could fool himself into thinking he'd never left. "Gabriel?"

"Mm?"

"I'm a little bit chilly. Would you give me a cuddle – warm me up?"

Gabriel opened one eye and peered at his brother. He knew what Lucifer was doing, but he wasn't about to admit to it. "Sure, I don't mind. I'll scooch over." He did, and Lucifer slipped into the bed beside him, folding one wing around him and pulling him in with his arm.

"Thank you. Your idea sounds fascinating, by the way. I think I would very much like to be a dragon."

Gabriel smiled and snuggled closer. And mostly, later, though it seemed to him that he ought to think otherwise, that was how he remembered Lucifer.

Some time later he was woken by another whispered conversation. Michael was at his door, and he could still feel Lucifer beside him.

"...like a wonderful brother to him."

"Thank you, Michael." Lucifer sounded surprised.

"Almost like a father, one would think."

"I wouldn't say that."

"Maybe you'd like to be."

"Michael, you stop it."

"You know how much Dad's approval means to him. It's cruel to mollycoddle him like this."

"I'm not."

"If I didn't know better I would almost say you were trying to outshine him – but that wouldn't be true, would it, _Morning Star_?"

Lucifer's wing slipped away then, and he heard him padding across the room and the door shut softly. Gabriel squeezed his eyes tighter and pretended he could still feel Lucifer there. Their voices carried away down the hall. Gabriel was confused; he did not know what could warrant such tension. He wanted to follow, and to find out, but he was so tired.

It was the first time that he began to understand that the love everyone had for Lucifer was not as pure as his own.


End file.
